


Puppy Paws

by UnholyHelbig



Series: Dirty Paws [2]
Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-06-14 19:29:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15395796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnholyHelbig/pseuds/UnholyHelbig
Summary: This is a collection of one-shots about Aubrey Posen slowly falling for a supernatural girl, with an undeniable love.[This is a spin-off of my other story "Dirty Paws" if you guys want to check that out first!]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, this was a suggestion given by someone on Tumblr. I really hope you guys enjoy!

**The pain pressed** roughly against the inside of her leg, ripping against exposed skin as Emily Junk bit back the howl of agony that rested at the back of her throat. She could feel the dull ache and recognize the warm sense of blood that soaked into her jeans. The same pair of jeans that she wished were a darker shade of blue right about now.

It was the anxiety. The pure and primal fear of failing yet another exam that beat against the inside of her mind like a jack-hammer. Why was calculus so hard for her? She had breezed through it in high school- but then again, she was dating her teachers younger brother. So maybe she wasn’t’ the greatest at the subject. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t persistent.

Emily ran her fingers calmly against the seam of her pocket, her eyes flicking down to her touch. Of course, her nails were coated in the sanguine liquid. She didn’t expect anything less from her little flare up. Chloe told her that she needed to breathe. That there was no way to avoid the gnawing pain that flooded her when she was stressed.

The change was elevated by stress, and finals weeks was nothing but overwhelmingly difficult.

Regardless, she leaned back into her seat, wiping the rustic blood from her hand as she let her focus move back to the textbook in front of her. The formulas weren’t making sense; a jumbled mess in her mind. It was like alphabet soup, everything melting together into a liquid of letters and thick tomato paste.

_“If x and y are integers and 2x + 9y = 57, then the least possible value of x^2 + 2xy + y^2”_

Emily mumbled to herself as she tapped the rubber eraser against the page, secluded in her little corner of the library. Someone had told her once that maybe if she read it out loud than the formulas would actually stick instead of slipping out of her memory.

“Fricking frick.” She drew out the words, still censoring herself as she let her head collapse in defeat into the jumble that her arms created. Her hair clouded her gaze.  

“The answer is nine.”

Emily shot up, mentally cursing herself for not realizing that she wasn’t completely alone. She had superhuman senses for fuck's sake, why didn’t’ she pick up on the clues around her? Chloe said that was another thing that would take time- but Emily was ever the impatient one.

She breathed in carefully, eyes casting over to the intoxicating scent of lemon and vanilla. It made her throat burn and her stomach heat up almost instantly; the woman who stood there had her own book hugged to her chest in a strong embrace. Emily couldn’t tell what it was about, but it was big.

Her straw-colored hair pooled around her shoulders, a Barden university sweatshirt dwarfing the girl as she pushed her thick-rimmed glasses up the bridge of her nose. _Wow, okay_. Her eyes looked like the windows that decorated a castle in an Emerald City, cheeks heated up as she lifted a pointed brow. “You uh-“

She stepped closer, letting her fingers move across the page as she looked at Emily’s strong handwriting. The girl was always told that it was neat, but it tended to become skewed when she was frustrated. Or when a pretty girl pressed her side against hers in the middle of a silent library. “You got most of it right, you just have to multiply the second equation by two, and then subtract- not add.”

The woman still carried the vanilla bean scent to her, but there was something else. Something so familiar, yet so foreign all at once. It didn’t matter, because at this point, Emily was staring at the woman blankly- her mind not catching up with those sultry eyes staking their claim.

“Thank you,” The words came out as a dull squeak. “I’m not very good at math, I… thank you.”

“It’s no big deal.” The stranger straightened up.

Emily bit back a dull whine that threatened to press against her lips at the loss of warmth and crave of contact. Apparently, she made some type of noise, because she earned a strange look from the gorgeous women who had an affinity for calculus. _What the fuck was that?_      

It was her wolf. Emily knew that her inner animal wanted her to push forward and talk to the girl. To do _something_ other than sit there like an idiot with her primal huff of sound being the only thing that stood between the two. Somehow- the woman didn’t’ seem turned off, but she intrigued. She leaned closer once more, seeing what kind of reaction she would get out of Emily.

The Freshmen cocked her brow, letting her hand drop down softly as the pencil fell from her grasp. Okay, now she knew she had more control over her actions. And they were telling her that this was odd- this wasn’t normal. Hell, she wasn’t normal. And the second this stranger moved closer the more her wolf wanted to claw its way out.

“Right, well- “She eased out “I really do appreciate the help.”

“Like I said, it’s no big deal.” She waved off.

The blonde woman reached forward, picking up the same pencil that Emily had just dropped without shame. She moved a bit lower than the equation that the girl was struggling with, the graphite against parchment sounded off without much shame as the woman wrote a few things down, expertly shading her writing.

It wasn’t that Emily couldn’t lean to the side to get a good look, but somehow it seemed like she would be invading the woman’s privacy. So she reluctantly leaned back into her chair, letting the base of wood dig into her spine as she watched the fluid movements the girl gave off.

“Well, stranger.” The girl said, finally moving back to her original position. She let the pencil drop back down on the paper. “If you need a math tutor, or if you don’t, feel free to give me a call anytime.”

_Aubrey, 893-719-1717_

There was a little fluid heart drawn after the last number, one that made Emily’s pound against the inside of her wrist as she ran her eyes over them. “Sure thing, I-“

The girl was gone, padding away without a trace. Emily was the supernatural one, she was the one who had to be chained to a brick wall on the 3rd of almost every month. Yet this woman, this stranger, had vanished without a trace. The naive edge of her believed that none of this really happened.  

Emily was bad at math. She couldn’t’ remember formula’s or how to carry a zero when the integers were staggered.  But every ounce of Emily knew, she would never forget the number written below an unsolvable equation.   


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Beca and Aubrey have a bit of a situation they have to handle after Thanksgiving dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen, I'm still very much here for Werewolf Junksen.

**The scent of**  pumpkin pressed against every inch of Aubrey’s senses, her main focus was trained on the impatience that the brunette to her side exhibited. She had already slathered her own piece of pie in wet whipped cream, but it was still hot. Steaming even, the substance dripping from either side and pooling around her plate.

Aubrey rolled her eyes as she caught the woman’s stare, tilting her head back and squirting a heathy amount of whipped cream into her mouth with the pressurized sound that the can made. She could do nothing but roll her eyes and shove the bite that was on her fork into her mouth. She had to admit, Beca did have a good palette when it came to baking. Cooking, not so much.

She had nearly burned the turkey before Emily had reached for the burning hot pan without any type of gloves. Aubrey had just watched as she yelped and dropped it on the counter, blowing against her palms frantically, while Chloe explained  _“_ _just because you can heal, doesn_ _’_ _t mean it doesn_ _’_ _t hurt like hell, Em_ _”_

Aubrey thought that would have been useful information before she reached for the heated metal. The blonde just shook her head and ran her fingers under the cold water regardless to dull the stinging pain.

None of that, however, deterred Emily from picking up the nearest controller to beat Chloe at Mario Cart. The two of them had been at it for hours at this point- their natural competitive nature not fairing well for anyone at this point. Beca was to the point of wishing for her headphones, Aubrey hoping there was a spare.

“We have to stop this at some point,”

“Right, I agree.” Beca leaned closer to the kitchen island that they stood at, she had put down the pressurized can, instead, she scrunched her nose up at the sight of the pie. They had both eaten way too much, but this was better than staying in the living room. “But if Emily is anything like Chloe then there is no way you’re getting that controller back.”

“No, trust me, I know. Chloe took my towel freshmen year and almost ripped it in half when I tried to get it back.”

“They’ll tire themselves out eventually, right?”

“I highly doubt it.” Aubrey shoved another forkful of pie into her mouth, not usually one to talk with her mouth filled, her utensil pointed at the two of them. “Maybe we should just distract them.”

Beca lifted her eyebrows at this, the edge of her own fork resting between her lips. There was an annoying smirk on the girl’s lips. “How much do you like your odds, Posen?”

Aubrey straightened her stance. She wasn’t one to back down from a challenge. Though her and Beca had grown closer through the years, sometimes it was nearly necessary to take her up on an offer like this. “Depends on what we’re betting.”

“Fifty.” She set her fork down “I can get that controller away from Chloe before you can force Emily to give in.”

She contemplated her options. There were a few tricks she had up her sleeve that maybe Beca hadn’t tried with Chloe yet. There was a laptop incident that she had mentioned a while back when she had sprained her ankle, but even then, she went to Aubrey for advice.

“Oh, you are so on, Mitchell.”

Beca watched her carefully as she walked to the fridge and grabbed a beer from the top shelf, she forbade a bottle opener, slamming it easily against the side of the counter. It was a party trick that had shocked all the Bella’s the first time she let loose enough to actually crack an alcoholic drink in the first place. Now, it just caused Beca to roll her eyes as she watched.

Emily had her tongue peeking out of the corner of her mouth; an act of concentration that usually would be endearing if a video game wasn’t reflecting off golden eyes. Her legs were tucked under her, a bowl of chips rested on the table in front of them- nearly untouched, but crumbs had found their way over most surface area around them. She had streaks on her pants where she had wiped the cheesy residue on her jeans.

“Em, you must be thirsty.” Aubrey squatted next to her girlfriend. She got a hum in response. “I brought you a beer.”

“Oh,” Emily didn’t’ glance away from the television, “Thanks, baby.”

Aubrey’s mouth dropped open as Emily patted her on the head. Her cheeks reddened at the gesture as she straightened herself up and cast a glare at Beca, who was biting the back of her hand to stifle a laugh that was sure to be bubbling up at this point. She let out a huff and set the open beer on the coffee table before taking her place behind the island again.  

She held up a finger in Beca’s face before she got a word in edgewise. “Don’t even start.”

“Food is a good start, but you can’t lead with a beer.” Beca stated as if it were obvious “If you want to get their attention you have to up the stakes a little bit.”

Beca threw a wink Aubrey’s way before she walked forward herself. She didn’t’ have any ammo with her- not a single alcoholic beverage or a sandwich made of leftovers for that matter. Instead, she slinked her hands around the back of the couch- hugging Chloe close as she nuzzled her nose up against the side of her neck. “Sweetie, we just set some pie out. Don’t you think it’s time for a break?”

Beca nipped lightly at the woman’s ear, again earning a half-hearted pat to the cheek and a quick peck on the lips. She could see the reflecting of the game, in the glasses that Chloe wore- gold rimmed and adorable despite no need to really use them. The annoyingly cheery music and sounds of racing cars made Beca pull back dazedly, turning to Aubrey with a sly shrug of her shoulders. Usually, that worked.

Aubrey let out a small huff. She walked forward, blocking the view of the television in front of Emily. The girl just tilted to the right, still getting a good view of the gameplay. She reached forward and snatched the controller- earning a slight growl from her girlfriends’ lips, soft brown eyes flashing upwards.

“Emily Junk,” The blonde reached forward and wrapped her fingers around the collar of the tweed blazer that she wore. She straddled her, knees on either side of her hips as the younger woman swallowed roughly. Loud. “You’re done with the game, right?”

“Uh-huh,” She nodded quickly, full focus on the girl in front of her.

“Yes! I win-Ah!” Chloe had started a sentence, her own controller knocked from her hand as wild blue eyes glanced up at Beca. “What was that for?”

Beca crossed her arms over her chest, clenching her jaw. “I’m getting fifty dollars from your purse.”  


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Mama Chloe teaching baby Emily the ways of being a werewolf? SO COOL!

**Emily’s never been**  fond of the woods. Her father and older brother used to take her out on hunting trips when she was young. They would sit perched up against a platform nailed to a large oak and wait for the unsuspecting deer to wander into their path. She would shield her eyes and try to cover her ears from the feedback of the rifle as much as she could, but it would never work.

Anthony would smile proudly, and her father would pat him on the back with a look of triumph before explaining away Emily’s green look with the squeeze of her knee.  _It’s the will of nature Emily. We’re meant to survive this way._

She didn’t see it in the same light, and she was more often than not, left to freeze with her headphones and an old Walkman that played the same mixtape over and over again until the melodies had been drilled into her mind and the firing of the guns just morphed in with the beats.

Right now, with Chloe Beale leading the way, she couldn’t tell if she wanted to be back in that deer hunt with her brother and her father, or here. In any sense: She would rather be curled up with a book and a good cup of coffee. One strong enough to ignore the cloying feeling in the center of her gut.

Chloe seemed right at home here. She breathed in the scent of the falling leaves and thrived against the vibrant yellows and oranges that still clung to the trees. Their boots cracked over the underbrush and Emily struggled to keep a hold on one singular thing or the other. She swore she could still catch the scent of the campus, and of the hot dog that a sophomore was having on the steps of Baker Hall.

“Right, well, I’m pretty sure we’re far enough.” Chloe stopped in the middle of a small clearing. She was bundled up in a coat, a long flannel that Emily was sure belonged to Beca. It smelled like her. She looked so at ease. “No one will hear us here.”

“Hear us?” Emily lifted her eyebrows in question.

Chloe had knocked on the door to her dorm with a smile that was annoyingly bright for 7am on a Saturday. She had rummaged through Emily’s cabinets before throwing her a pair of sweat pants and t-shirt and telling her to get dressed. She had hit her square in the face and Emily was pretty sure she could crawl back into bed and ignore everything, yet, here she was.

“I’m going to teach you how to turn.”

“I thought I already knew how to do that?”

She shivered visibly at the thought. Sure, the past two full moons that she endured had been an extra slice of pie from hell. It was a pain that she couldn’t quite get a grip on, one that had her chained to the basement in her literary professor’s house. (She didn’t even want to tap into that wormhole.) But she had lived, even if her body ached at the mere edge of memory.

“No, you don’t.” Chloe pulled at the metal snappers on her pea coat, letting them move with a pop. “You know how to shift against the mercy of the moon. Not at your own will.”

“Why would I want to do that?”

Chloe had a ghost of a smile on her lips, one that was oddly unfit for the situation but calming all in itself. “All you feel is the anxiety when you shift, correct? Like you’re fighting something every step of the way?”

Emily swallowed roughly but nodded with little confidence. She didn’t remember much, the pain was blinding, but she did recall her constant battle with the wolfs primal instinct that was housed at the back of her mind. The full moon seemed to unleash it, let it fester. She pulled the sleeves of her sweatshirt down further and tried to swallow the acidic taste in her mouth.

“Right now, you’re working against your wolf.” Chloe shrugged the coat off her shoulders and let it drop at the base of a tree. The ground looked damp. “You’re stifling it in every aspect and that just makes the one time during the month when it gains complete control even worse.”

Emily lifted her chin like she understood, but she wasn’t quite sure she did. Part of her wanted to relinquish all control and let Chloe make the decisions because she knew best. She didn’t’ lead blindly and Emily never felt like she was in danger around the woman- not until now.

Chloe was lifting her t-shirt from the bottom up, seemingly not bothered by the cold of the fall day.

“I don’t like… the woods” Emily finally said, staring down at the blanket of leaves on the ground.

The older woman’s eyebrows shot up. She had spoken to her before about how the cover of the trees was for their benefit, but Emily never took much stock in it. As far as she was concerned, she would grow used to repressing those hunt hungry feelings chained to a rafter underground. Not out in the open where she could potentially  _hurt_ someone.

“My dad and brother used to drag me to hunting trips out here and I… I couldn’t’ fathom shooting a deer, a rabbit, anything. And now you’re asking me to- “Emily took a second to steady her breathing, to swallow back the lump in her throat. “To willingly turn into the darkest part of myself that is okay with doing that.”

Chloe’s features softened as she let her hands drop to her sides. She eyed the girl for a few moments, took in the way her stance was alert and how much fear she could smell. It wasn’t a pleasant scent, it stung and mixed with the vanilla and musk that Emily usually carried. The one that alerted her to the young wolf in the first place in that coffee shop two months ago.

“The first time I turned, I nearly killed a man.” Chloe said, voice careful “I had used a simple pair of handcuffs and fastened it to the pipe in against the bottom of the sink. Threw the key into the tub too like I would need it.”

She shoved her hands into her pockets for warmth despite only being in a sports bra and slack pair of sweat pants. Emily listened intently.

“I didn’t know what was happening to me. The mood swings, the incessant hunger, and the pain that wracked through me the closer we got to the full moon. It got so bad that night- so dominating, that I locked myself away to protect everyone.”

Emily pursed her lips into a thin line. It had taken three different sets of chains and a very handy dose of tranquilizer to seemingly calm her into a stillness last month. A simple handset of handcuffs and a rusty pipe couldn’t’ handle a simple house cat.

“I was lucky that night, you know? Someone had enough sense to pull me off that guy before I ripped his throat out and believe me, Emily, I would have. You need to let your wolf work with you instead of against you. It’s that simple. You wouldn’t like being cooped up all day, would you?”

“No, I suppose not.”

“Alright, good.” Chloe nodded softly “Now, for lack of a better word. Strip.”

Emily’s cheeks instantly heated up and she stared down at the dirt she had been kicking so aimlessly at. Chloe had removed most of her clothes at this point, throwing her pants against the pile of already shed clothes. The younger girl would have objected, but she tore straight through her favorite Barden sweatshirt last time.  

She hooked her own fingers against the edge of her shirt and shivered under the cold air as she tossed it into a pile next to Chloe’s. She rolled her pants into a little ball and straightened easily in the clearing. She rubbed the back of her neck and looked sheepishly at Chloe, who seemed extremely sure of herself. She should be comfortable with it by now- but the woman’s bluntness always had a way of shocking her.  

“I need you to get angry.”

“What?”

“I taught you about anchors a few weeks ago. Something that you need to hold onto with all of your might just to make sure that you’re human.”

Emily nodded thoughtfully. It was something she relied on to lower her heartbeat. A  _someone_ who triggered something so undeniably damning in her that it would always reign true. All she had to do was listen for the heartbeat, that sound of her shallow breathing and the way her primal scent was everywhere. She would settle then. Calm down enough to stop clenching her jaw and breathe.

“Now I want to teach you the opposite.” Chloe circled her in an almost primal way, the leaves crunching under her bare feet. “Something to connect you to your primal nature. So, I want you to get angry.”

She scrunched her nose up, remembering that day in the coffee shop even more vividly. It only took a spilled hot beverage down the front of her blouse to stir up rage in her. Chloe had pulled her effortlessly into the bathroom and she let her, felt her power and her own mark. Emily snorted. “I don’t think I can do that on command.”

“What’ll it take, then?” Chloe asked, eyes darkening as she shoved Emily’s shoulder back with force.

“Ow- I… not that?”

“What then? You want to talk about the night you were turned?”

Emily most certainly didn’t want to talk about that night. The way the forest had become so foreign and engulfing, how the stray branches tore at her while something unknown hunted her for sport. It had dug its teeth so easily into her for the fun of it- no remorse. He probably thinks she’s dead now.

“The way he left you to die. How he took away everything that was important to you.”

Emily let out a huff and sent Chloe a glare. She wouldn’t let this work. Not when she was standing half naked in the middle of a forest with the woman who was supposed to mentoring her. Right now, it felt more like cruel torture. She was close, breath hot.  

“He didn’t’ care about you, Emily.” She prodded, voice a low growl “About what you could do to your family.”

“Chloe,”

“What you could do to Aubrey-“

Emily brought her hand rigidly against the edge of Chloe’s cheek. The slap seemed to echo against the expanse of the woods and she instantly let out a gasp, bringing that same hand to her mouth as she stifled her shock. She couldn’t quite explain the rage that flashed through her, or what lead her to strike the woman in the first place.

Chloe’s eyes were downcast, and her cheek still turned as she brought in an easy breath, flicking her stare back to Emily as she lifted her chin. “Good. Use that. You’re going to need it.” 


End file.
